A Murder Of Crows
by Dalamar Nightson
Summary: Magical war had torn through Tortall millenia ago. Will the forgotten gods help their former faithful not make the same mistakes? Crossover with Sevenwaters Trilogy, though you don't have to have read them.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing that Tamora Pierce owns, except for a copy of each of her books. I also don't own any of Juliet Marillier's characters, places, or ideas. I own nothing you recognize at all, except for the plot, which is hopefully original.  
  
**Prologue  
**  
Gather round, children, and I shall tell a story of a place called Earth, in the year 2005. First, though, you need to know something about this planet's history. You know it already, you say? Well, I must disagree with you there. Now, listen.  
  
Many, many years ago, there was another world, and on it there were many miraculous things – griffins, and dragons, knights and ladies, monsters and magic. Sounds like a wonderful place, no? It was, until the peace created during the reign of King Jonathan the IV and his Queen, Thayet the Peerless was broken.  
  
It happened about one hundred years after the death of King Jonathan and his faithful knights and advisors. In this time of pain, a magical war began between mages of the greatest kingdoms in that world – Tortall, Carthak, Scanra, Tusaine, the Copper Islands, and the Yamani Islands. Though some old loyalties were kept, treachery was practiced on all sides, and it was each person for him- or herself.  
  
During this war of magic, nearly the whole world was decimated. Whole islands were sunken, whole continents made infertile. Peoples were wiped out, and it wasn't until nearly the whole world had been killed that a treaty was made. However, the land was no longer inhabitable.  
  
So, the remaining mages, in penance for the destruction they'd caused used nearly all of their life-force to transport the few hundred survivors to another world; a new world. This world they named Earth.  
  
The people living on Earth realized that it was magic and the power it brought that had created their downfall, so they swore to forsake it forever more. For a while, they lived on as they had. However, in adapting to their new home, most of their old life was forgotten. The people of the Old World became little more than savages, hunting and scavenging, haven forgotten even the simplest elements of farming from their long years of war and hardship.  
  
For a while, they kept pieces of their heritage alive in cave painting, but soon they forgot even those aspects of their former lives. Over time, they adjusted to the new planet and became a bit more civilized. However, it seemed they had completely forgotten about magic.  
  
As time passed, the people became more highly evolved, yet still seemed oblivious to the magic running through their blood. Sure, once in a while, a mage discovered his or her power. How do you think the Olmec or the Easter Island heads came about? The Great Pyramids of Egypt and South America? Stonehenge and the Nazca Drawings? Aliens? No, it was the magic of the people. However, humans forget what they don't wish to remember, and they did not want to acknowledge the presence of magic.  
  
Problems for the few magic users of the world increased with the creation of monotheism. It was long ago that they'd stopped the worship of the old Pantheon, with Mithros, the Goddess, and such, but many other religions had similar figures, and most respected magic. However, monotheism meant doom for those who truly knew their magic, such as the Druids. Witches became hunted, and magic was once more crushed.  
  
Magic was shunned, and pushed aside by either religion or science, until it was just a fantasy, an unattainable dream for almost all. However, magic still ran strong in the blood of a few.  
  
Now, the world faces destruction once more, not by magic, but by the science of atom bombs and nuclear warheads. The old gods become restless – their faith that the people will return to them wanes, as does their patience.  
  
Mithros calls a meeting of the Old Pantheon. All come, from the greatest gods of the sentient beings to the most minute of the animal gods. What else do they have to do? Mithros calls order, and gets his silence.  
  
"It has been too long, my brethren. Though our children no longer believe in us, I for one cannot just stand by while they destroy themselves once more. The time has come to act."  
  
There were murmurs from the other gods. It was true, it would hurt to see them destroy themselves again, but should the unfaithful be helped?  
  
When the Goddess cleared her throat, the other gods quieted. "I for one will help. And not only because I do still have some faithful. In some of these new people, the old bloodlines run strong. We shall make ourselves known to them once more. If we do nothing, Chaos will win once more, as she'd done so many years ago. We barely survived that battle. Do we really want to risk everything once more by not intervening again? It is time."  
  
With the end of the Goddess's speech, the other gods only had to pause for a second before throwing in their lot with her. Mithros banged a gavel for silence. "It is decided then."  
  
As the gods dispersed to make plans, the Goddess turned to Mithros. "We must tell the Watcher. She will be a valuable tool." Mithros nodded, and the two left the meeting place as well.

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed this new version of the story. Hopefully, updates will come more quickly, as I now have a plot. Thanks to my two reviewers. No, I did not review my own story, I was at Rivin's house, and had noticed a mistake in my bio, so I logged on. I left, and she reviewed without changing the name.  
  
Pauline: Glad you liked it, hope you'll read more. Yes, I was referring to cavemen, and I will introduce people in the next chapter.  
  
Rivin: Thankees, Riv! Glad you liked, and now I actually have a plot to go on! 


	2. The Watcher in the Needle

**Disclaimer**: I don't own either Juliet Marillier's work or Tamora Pierce's. If I did, do you honestly think I would be putting up fanfics about my own work? I didn't think so.  
  
**A/N**: Just to clear up any confusion that might ensue in the following chapter – first of all, this chapter will explain almost all you need to know for about the Sevenwaters Trilogy for my fic if you haven't read it. I'll put more explanations in on request. Second: only people from Tortall (or surrounding countries) are reincarnated. People descended from Fainne are their own characters, though they may share names with an ancestor. That's all for now.  
  
**The Watcher in the Needle**  
  
Finnea sat with her grandmother, reciting the lore of her people. She was learning well, and was training to be the next Watcher. Her family had lived on the same tiny island for over one thousand years, magic passing from parent to child every generation.  
  
The most people there ever were on the island was under ten – Finnea's great grandparents on her grandmother's side, her maternal grandparents, her parents, her brother Conor, her sister Sorcha, and herself. She and her siblings were named for the first Watcher's aunts and uncles, she herself after the half-swan, half-man, Finbar.  
  
Since Finnea showed a great aptitude and love for the Craft, her destiny was laid out for her. She would learn the lore of the Druids, and the magic that was her heritage until she was eighteen. At that point, she would be permitted to leave the Needle for up to five years, during which time she would find someone to marry. Then, she would return to the Needle with her husband, where she would increase her magic prowess and Druidic knowledge until she took up mantel of the Watcher.  
  
In this post, she would make sure that the Islands stayed undiscovered by the rest of humankind. She would also scry constantly, keeping up with world affairs, waiting. When the time was right, the Watcher and her family would re-enter the world, bringing with them magic and enlightenment. However, Finnea highly doubted that that would happen in her lifetime. Generations of Watchers had waited for the correct time, and never deemed the world ready.  
  
The life of the Watcher was a lonely one, but it did have its benefits. For one thing, nearly everyone born to the line of the Watchers inherited as well as deep red hair and mulberry eyes, the ability to tap into the wells of Magic. Sorcerers and Sorceresses also had abnormally long lifetimes, being in their prime after having reached the age when normal mortals would perish. Best of all, in Finnea's belief, were the visits and tutelage from those powerful beings known as the Fair Folk.  
  
It was soon after her seventeenth birthday when the Lady of the Forests and her fiery consort appeared before her on that day while she was studying with her Grandmother. However, today, Finnea noticed a difference in the appearances of the King and Queen of the Fair Folk.  
  
The Lady, known to some as Deirdre, appeared as she usually did – an amazingly tall, amazingly beautiful woman with hair the color of deepest night, lips the color of freshly spilt blood, skin the color of purest snow, and a cloak the color of the deepest sea. However, today, this beautiful woman seemed to have an extra, ethereal glow creating a halo about her body. Finnea decided that must be a trick of the light in the dim chamber of the Needle.  
  
However, the change in the Fiery Lord was much more pronounced, and could not be attributed to poor light. Instead of being pale with hair of fire, the man had dark skin and black hair. However, he was recognizable because of his armor, which shone with a fire-like radiance.  
  
Finnea stood, and sank into a deep curtsy. Her grandmother, however, had no such reverence. "Did you have to come _now_? We were in the middle of a splendid lesson, and have no time for your games. Say what you have to say, and be done with it!" The older woman was famous for her fiery temper.  
  
The Lord and Lady were not angry; the Lady seemed almost amused. "Liadan, please leave us alone a minute." The Lord's face was stern as always, as was his voice. "We have things of the utmost importance to discuss with the girl. The time has passed for our games. We play no longer."  
  
Liadan, named for the first Watcher's aunt, was taken aback at this, and left the room without further objections.  
  
"Sit, my dear, and don't be afraid." The Lady's voice was kind and soothing, and Finnea hurried to do her bidding. They all sat around the small fire burning in the center of the room. When the Lady spoke again, all traces of amusement were gone from her voice. "It is time. However, there are a few things I must tell you of first."  
  
"To begin with, we are not fairies, as many call us today. We are actually the gods and goddesses of another world, whence the ancestors of all humans came. We did not conquer the Fomhóire, but came to an understanding with them. We would watch over the humans, and they would tend to nature. In this way, they would be protected from those humans who wished to reign supreme here, thus eliminating all other manner of spirits, such as themselves.  
  
"It is also a lie that the line of sorcerers is descended from one of the Tuatha De' who was made an outcast. You are simply an undiluted line of people possessing magic from the old world. That she was cast out from a race of gods was simply a lie created by Lady Oonagh as a way of comforting herself because she didn't possess healing powers. However, different mages possess different aptitudes for things – that's the way it has always been.  
  
"Now, as I'm sure at least partly know, the world is on the brink of tearing itself apart with nuclear and biological warfare. And as magic destroyed the old world, magic must save this one, for if war breaks out here, there will be no survivors." The Lady of the Forest stopped speaking on that ominous note, and her fiery consort picked up the narrative.  
  
"Now, child, we do not ask you to do this alone. You will go to America, where you will meet a group of young men and women in whom the spirits of Tortallan heroes reside. That is to say, heroes from the old world. These people will be able to help you, magically or otherwise. Unfortunately, some of the people who have returned will do all they can to stop you. Equally unfortunate, we're not quite sure who has been reincarnated, and we're not sure which bodies most of the spirits reside in. Now, we will tell you what we do know."  
  
The Lord and Lady of the Tuatha De' Danann spent the next few hours briefing Finnea about the heroes and villains of King Jonathan's time, as well as some history of that time. Finnea listened intently, absorbing the new information quickly. Finally, the Lord and Lady, who Finnea now knew were also called Mithros and the Goddess, allowed her to sleep.  
  
When Finnea awoke the next morning, the two Old World deities were by her bedside. "You must pack now." Mithros' voice held urgency. "Time is of the essance, and you must enter America now. When you are packed, we will transport you there."  
  
Finnea did as the god bid, and when she was done, a glimmering portal sat in the middle of the room. On either side of it stood Mithros and the Goddess, both of whom had changed form once more. Now, they were no longer inhumanly tall and beautiful, but fairly normal looking humans. They looked as though they may as well have been Finnea's parents.  
  
"Wait." Finnea was suddenly distressed. "What about my family?"  
  
Deirdre's voice was kind. "We shall explain once we've left you among the others. They will understand – it is the task of the Watcher to be ready for a situation just like this. Now, we go."  
  
With that, Finnea stepped forward to the portal, without so much as a backward glance. She slowly stepped through, and felt as though she'd stepped through a curtain of water, though she was completely dry on the other side. Mithros and the Goddess followed her through, and when Finnea looked around, she saw she was in front of a school in a small town in America.

**A/N**: Not much to say here, as I haven't gotten any reviews for my altered first chapter, but I will still send out a few thanks. First, to Rivin, who enthusiastically encouraged my continuing of this fic. Second, to Ironi Numair, from whom I took no ideas, but did get a bit of inspiration from her (his?) fic Hourglass. Please, please review. Criticism is welcome; just keep it civil, please. Thanks for reading! 


	3. The Most Boring Class on Earth

**Disclaimer**: I own anyone you don't recognize. Anyone you do recognize, or even think you recognize, is likely not mine. So DON'T SUE! Capische? I apologize once more for my abysmal spelling. Just a note – the school is loosely based on mine, though not completely. Many people you will meet are reincarnations, but not all.  
  
**The Most Boring Class on Earth**  
  
Alanna Trebond sighed. She was stuck in parenting class, was already bored out of her wits, and the class wasn't even half over yet. She decided to waste time by thinking up tortures for whatever imbecile decided that Parenting would be a required half-year course for all of the students. Despite the fact the girl was a senior, she stood just shy of five foot. She shook her head in exasperation with the school, and her long fiery locks swirled around her head.  
  
Soon, Alanna was bored once more. She looked around the room to see how her friends were coping. In the back corner, Aaron Draper sat passing what were most likely love notes to his girlfriend Diane. Those two had been inseparable for over a year now, and their affection, though amusing, got on Alanna's nerves at times like this.  
  
One of her best friends, Jonathan Kingson, a handsome young man with long, night-black hair sat a row behind her, making eyes at Josie across the room. Talk about infuriating love! Jonathan seemed to have a new 'true love' every other week, each one more vile than the last. His latest crush was a tall blond-haired girl who never seemed without a comb, lipgloss, nail file, and a nasty word for Alanna. Alanna shook her head. What did Jonathan see in her?  
  
Her twin brother, in most of her classes, was taking an advanced history course this period. It was too bad they could only think each other's feelings up to a point. One of Alanna's other friends, Kelly, was in a band lesson. She played a Japanese type of string instrument, and was quite good.  
  
Alanna sighed as she looked at the seat next to her. Her most enthusiastic partner in all manner of mischief, George Cooper had landed himself in ISS (in school suspension) yet again. That boy did not know how to stay out of trouble. And when Alanna told him to stop mouthing off to the teachers, and to actually do the homework, he only smiled and said "Ma always said I was crooked!" That always made Alanna laugh, because Mrs. Cooper was a nurse at the local pediatrician's office, and was one of the most lady-like people Alanna knew. How her son turned out the way he did...  
  
Alanna smirked to herself. Bad idea. As she sat in the front row, her teacher, a frumpy, wrinkle-faced woman who looked about ninety caught her. "Excuse me, Miss Trebond. Please, enlighten us as to what is so funny. Because I'm sure you can't be laughing about the fact that the misuse of condoms leads to many teen pregnancies, as well as the spread of HIV."  
  
Alanna blushed scarlet, and muttered an apology. "Nothing funny. Sorry." She schooled her face into a politely interested expression and looked down at her book as though she were avidly taking or reading notes. Naturally, she was doing no such thing, but it took the teacher's attention off of her.  
  
Alanna needn't have worried, however, because the monotony of the day was suddenly broken by the unthinkable: a new student! _Who the hell would join a new school in the middle of the senior year?_ Alanna's thoughts were sarcastic as she looked over the new student.  
  
The new girl was of medium height and build, but that was where her average looks ended. In an odd way, she looked a bit like Alanna herself, though her red hair was a darker shade than Alanna's fiery locks, and curlier. Her eyes were also an odd color – a reddish purple the color of ripe mulberries. Alanna somehow knew, that like her own violet eyes, the color was not created by contacts. The girls skin was very pale, as if she spent little time in the sun.  
  
With obvious annoyance at this disturbance in the normal order of things, the teacher told the new girl to sit in George's seat for the rest of class, as there were no other seats in the over-full class. The new girl introduced herself as Finnea Swan, and had moved to America from Ireland.  
  
Alanna looked around, once more seeing what her friends thought. Daine and Aaron were now both giggling – Alanna doubted that they'd even noted the disturbance. Jon was ogling Finnea with the look he usually reserved for his true love of the week. Alanna's gaze then rested on Josie to see how she was coping with Jonathan's sudden waning of attention. She was looking at the girl with a disgusted look that said whomever was caught in it's deadly range was an inferior being. As that was a look usually reserved for Alanna and a couple of her other friends, Alanna decided she'd go out of her way to make friends with the girl. Anyone Josie despised was usually worth talking to.  
  
As class wore on, Alanna decided she would talk to the new girl, and maybe even force her friends to meet her. Better to be inducted into their group of oddballs than into one of the popular groups, she always thought. Finally, the bell rang, and Alanna approached Finnea. "Hi! I'm Alanna Trebond."  
  
**A/N**: Sorry it's so short – I'm full of ideas, and just couldn't resist another cliffie. Please, please review! Also, I'm not sure if I'll actually listen, but you're welcome to submit any wishes for people you want to see reincarnated. I'll also take suggestions for other book series to bring in, though again, I may ignore the idea. Thanks for your continued input and support. 


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